Enjoying, Not Excelling

Recently I've been completely taken with Sky Arts' Portrait Artist of the Year competition. I love nothing more than watching an artist hard at work from the comfort of my own sofa. After a long day of writing and staring at speadsheets, I can't get enough of observing how they put the image together.

In the past I might have been inspired to take a painting class or get out one of my old sketchbooks. Because, like many things, I've dabbled in drawing. I took art classes from time to time, with my most notable stretch during the time when I was in Catholic school. Sister was not pleased when I painted a flower green. It was not some sort of anti-realism protest on my part, just a mistake. 

I've sampled just about every possible hobby out there, from tap to belly dancing, from scuba diving to skiing, from singing to piano lessons. The piano was definitely my longest lasting -- 12 years of studying from the time that I was six years old.

Hobbies can be a great thing -- but I am starting to wonder if my typical approach to them is healthy at all. Because I think I mostly like the idea of being good at something much more than the actual thing I am planning to do. And so whenever I set out to learn something I feel like I have to be good at it for it to be of any worth at all. I get mixed up between the idea of enjoying something versus being able to do it.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not regretting trying new things. I think my attempts at being on the swim and soccer teams in high school served a great purpose: to tell me that I'm not athletic. But I also learned how to be a very good swimmer -- something that has served me well every time the Hub wants to swim as far away from the boat as possible when we are sailing in the Mediterranean. The high school swim team (well, mostly my friend Jessica's personal coaching) probably has saved my life and kept my marriage intact.

But I'm not 12 anymore. These days I know what I like, and I know what I'm good at. I don't need to sign up for drawing lessons anymore to realize that I like watching people paint or looking at art in museums. Nor do I need to learn how to tap dance to know I like going to see musicals or that I tend to like a boogie on the dance floor at a wedding. And I've discovered that I can have a very healthy approach to golf: one hobby I know I will never, ever be good at. So I can just enjoy it.

But I do plan to resume playing the piano -- as soon as the Hub and I can agree on what kind of piano to get and where to put it in our house. But I'm not going to study anymore. Instead, I'm going to decide what kind of music I want to play these days and maybe even sing along -- loud and on my own, for no one one else to hear but me.   

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Riding The Bus

We've started to have some really nice spring days in London. On a recent Saturday I needed to get from Clapham Junction home to Streatham and decided to take the 319 bus Eastward. I sat on the top deck and looked out the window the whole time.

People are always shocked and excited by the sun in this city, and they crawl out of the woodwork, filling the streets and the parks. But I'm always struck by how the rest of the city looks shocked too -- the buildings and pavement can't seem to believe that they can see the bright blue sky above. The dirt shows a little more, but the red and rusty orange brick that comprises most of London has a more dramatic hue.

On that Saturday I was happy to look out the window and let the mix of sunshine and people enjoying it reflect back onto me. I was buzzed with the warmth of the day and the energy of the city.

But I didn't always feel this way about the sun in London.

When I first moved to England, the unpredictability of the weather and the way residents acted like it was the Saturnalia when the sun came out irritated me. I couldn't understand why a rise in the temperature of a few degrees pushed all the Friday night pub goers out onto the sidewalks. I was annoyed that going to lunch at someone's house on a chilly day in May meant eating outside -- if it wasn't raining. I was always cold and cross at constant discussions of the weather, in particular, the big question on everyone's lips: Will we have a summer in Britain this year?

Maybe I am mellowing. Maybe I am getting used to life here. Maybe I just now know how to dress for the weather (see When A Cardigan Is Not Enough).

No matter what it is, I am now caught up along with everyone else in the joy of the spring weather arriving on the days we are lucky enough to have some sun. I walk through our neighborhood and smile at the smell of the barbecues firing up at a moment's notice so friends can sit outside and enjoy the warmth and sun together. Even if it is April.

I will gladly sit in my friend's garden in the middle of July wrapped up in my lightweight coat with a scarf around my neck, sharing a bottle of wine. I welcome the stretching of the days at the moment and await the time in a month or two when we will have to try to go to sleep while it is still twilight outside.

When I first moved to this country I wanted adventure and excitement, but I guess on some level I also wanted everything to be absolutely the same. When it wasn't, I gnashed my teeth and struggled against it. But as I rode the 319 bus through South West London recently I realized that things had changed and now I know what I didn't know then -- you can't have it both ways. And it's the differences and the challenges in life that allow us to also experience the joy. And, of course, the sun.

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A 30-Something Girl Scout?

Last year was my year of dealing with "stuff" as we prepared to sell our flat and buy a real grown-up house. Not only did I embark on my life-changing clear out, but my Mom sent over all my childhood belongings. Now everything I own (O.K., the childhood doll house was not shipped to England) resides under my roof.

One thing I discovered during this process is that not only have I struggled with chronic procrastination my whole life, but I also am not good at finishing tasks, even ones I'm enjoying. I have ventured to try to understand this and -- even without the help of a professional psychologist -- I have come to the conclusion is that this has been completely about perfectionism, which is completely about anxiety.

When I describe this to people they are always baffled as they perceive me to be driven, organized and together -- a honest-to-goodness nerd. But that's the problem: I am driven and organized, and I use those bursts of energy to make up for all the time I spend not getting around to things or not getting them finished. And then everything works out O.K. in the end (or even better than O.K.), so in a way it's never been a "problem".

Oh but it has. It's hard to enjoy life and the work that you want to do when you're in a constant state of anxiety about being behind on everything.

Which made me realize that something had to change. And when I saw my Girl Scout sash among my childhood belongings I decided to do something radical. The sash was not complete -- it was accompanied by a neat baggie which contained some of the badges that I had never sewn on. I was mortified: what kid wants to be a Girl Scout, does the work for a badge and then doesn't sew it on? There was even a sewing badge there! What the what?

So over Christmas, which we spent at my in-laws, I sewed on all the badges that were missing from the sash. Even the cookie sale ones. (Consequently my father in law said he had a badge he wanted sewed on a sweatshirt, so I did that one too. Everyone wins!)

I know it sounds nuts. But for me it was a symbolic activity. It was almost as if with each stroke of the needle I was telling that little girl who is still in there somewhere that there's no reason not to be bold. Whatever it is I want to do, why not do it whole hog and not care what anyone else thinks? Whether it's being a Girl Scout, a writer or something else entirely. And, maybe even more importantly, that I am capable of these things -- there's no reason to fear this specter of failure I've been running from my whole life.

I think Girl Scout cookie time is coming up soon, so if you live in the U.S., please support this great organization. It's still teaching me lessons, even as a 30-Something former Girl Scout. I have my order in already for a box of samoas.

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Making Peace With Red Tape

I have finally finished my U.S. taxes. Well, I have finally finished gathering together the materials to do them, so that I could send them to my tax preparer. (Doing my U.S. taxes as an expat is clearly out of the question. I am still traumatized by my Dad making me do them when I was in college and I had to try to figure out how to account for share sales that were paying my tuition).

Life is full of red tape. There's always something you need to be doing admin-wise. Whether it's making a dentist appointment, figuring out how the heck to send a postal ballot in the U.K., applying for a mortgage or doing your taxes, it will probably never cease. There are thank-you notes to send, birthday cards to write and garbage to take out. Living in a society with other peoples comes with all sorts of rules and responsibilities this way. Even dying requires a certain amount of admin.

I've started making a sort of truce with red tape. Not sure if I'm at peace with it yet, but the light bulb has finally gone on and I've realized that putting things off doesn't make them go away and instead creates more pain. Playing catch-up is always a grind. So why do so many of us keep things on our to-do list for ages, taunting us?

I was thinking about it last night and realized that sometimes completing things frightens me. When things are all done, beds are made and the admin is under control, what's left? If I didn't have silly things to worry about, would I be faced with the really scary things – the fears that I don't particularly like sitting with?

Ironically, having all sorts of admin hanging over my head avoids a certain amount of discomfort. Clearing away all the excess clutter leaves me alone with whatever is there (whatever that is). I suppose it's a little like meditation. Just sitting there, doing nothing, alone with your thoughts. No wonder people turn the other direction when you start talking about meditation.

But the flip side – and the less scary side – is that when you do clear away all the clutter of life, you can also find the space to focus. You can touch base with the uncomfortable stuff and then make choices about what's actually important.

But practically, how do you get started on clearing all the admin away?

What has helped me is finding some time to focus on it – a scheduled time. Setting aside a specific time does two things – it makes sure you stay focused when you're doing it and also it gives your brain space to do other things when it's not the time to do admin.

For example, when I do manage to get up early (at 6 a.m.), I'm not actually ready to do creative things, but I've found that I am really good at clearing my inbox and sorting out other tasks like bills, online grocery shopping or figuring out how to get to an upcoming country wedding by train. I prefer to get serious writing done instead after work and before dinner. Also, starting the day with admin sorted makes it much easier to really concentrate on work at 9 a.m.

Another thing I do is set aside some time on Sunday nights to go through the stack of papers that has accumulated throughout the week (mail, magazines, odd scraps of paper with lists scribbled on them, etc.). I file away important bits and decide what to chuck. That means during the week I can open my mail without worrying too much about it. I can just put it in the pile if it can wait until Sunday. I know piling things is another form of procrastination, but I'm OK with only sorting it out once a week (hey, nobody's perfect).

Also, if I have a bigger project I want to do, such as cleaning out a closet, or putting together a flat-packed piece of furniture (don't get me started on how long this actually takes – I am never ordering furniture in pieces again), I schedule it in. Block out a Saturday afternoon. Just like I would do with a social engagement. If you want to de-clutter your life and your brain, you have to build in the time.

Obviously, you have to be your own expert and find what works for you. But before you just sigh and forget about it, thinking red tape is the bug bear impossible to conquer, it's worth examining what it is that keeps you from actually dealing with annoying admin. And what you could gain by getting it under control.

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Mixed Reviews

The Hub says I'm reacting emotionally to things that are incredibly un-emotive. Like barbeque arrangements (our house or theirs?) and the book Tinker Tailor Solider Spy ( I hate it! I'm terrified of it!). Perhaps, like Sampson, my hair is where I carried all my strength.

I cut all my hair off last weekend. Apparently this is what brides do after the big day is over. In fact, my hair guy was extremely nervous I'd set my mind to do this – according to him, this is what always happens post-wedding and nine times out of 10 the women hate the result and he is left picking up the pieces.

I certainly don't hate it, but I'm still undecided as to whether or not it's really 'me'. You can see from my new blog photo that it's not all that short – although it probably is the shortest I've ever had it. It also had to be super long for the wedding, you see, so that I could do this with it:

(That's my amazing Mom, by the way. One of the biggest fans of the blog!)

So it's a big change. I wrote about change last week and the importance of embracing it and ironically, when I changed my hair (a temporary change as hair grows back) I still managed to freak out a little.

It didn't help that there were clearly mixed reviews. Some people didn't even mention it when I ran into them in the kitchen at work. Clearly a negative sign. But there was also lots of positive feedback and comments that it made me look younger (!) and even taller (!!).

But all of this made me think about the importance I place on approval and how that might be detrimental.

I have found that generally, when I do something for myself instead of seeking others approval, the result is usually better. In terms of quality, and happiness, and general well-being. But why is this such a difficult thing to do?

I once took a job because I was flattered it was offered to me. I used to go out with some guys because they liked me. Big mistakes.

I've been thinking a lot about the future of my career and writing post-wedding (now that I have more time to ponder, and also to breathe). And I think one thing that is particularly important is to be really honest with myself about what it is I want – instead of all the notions I have had floating around in my head since I was a kid, including other people's pesky opinions. Because I think that once I figure that out, then the more practical steps will be much easier.

There's a part in Anne Lamott's wonderful book on writing, Bird by Bird, where she talks about how you can't write to get published – how you have to be enough already (despite the fact that being a published author is a good thing).

The reality is that we get mixed reviews our entire life – but it's us that has to be happy with what it is we're doing (or how our hair looks). Defining ourselves by those around us is a losing game.

Perhaps it's hard to deal with real-life post-wedding because you've just had the one day where you can do no wrong. With a wedding, there are no mixed reviews. Even if you have no voice and in some photos your boobs are kind of jumping out of your dress (I told the dress lady it was too tight!). Coming crashing down is always a shock.

PS Do you think that Kate will cut all her hair off after the Royal Wedding? I would certainly bet on it.

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The Great Clothing Clean Out

Clothes can often be loaded for women. They are our protection, a statement, and can represent what we desire or what we wish was better about ourselves. For some, buying clothes and going shopping can be great fun or a distraction. It can also be an addiction.

I have to admit, I am not the biggest fan of shopping. No matter how at peace you are with your body, sometimes it's no match for the dressing room lighting. Or pick out the wrong cut of skirt and suddenly you appear to have lumps jutting out of your body in places you didn't even know there was a problem. It's not for the faint of heart.

For me clothes shopping is also interlinked with my constant battle not to hang onto old clothes -- things that don't fit, don't look nice or just contain a sentimental value (but yet they sit stuffed away at the back of the closet or in the bottom of a drawer). What if I need it again? What if I ever do some painting and need overalls? I keep old pairs of jeans in case I can use the material to patch another pair. As if I have ever patched anything in my life.

Earlier this week I wrote about a program I watched on hoarding and it gave me a renewed drive to try to grapple with my pack-rat demons when it comes to my clothes.

And the truth is, that in the past few years I've got better. I try to do a good clean out of my clothes at the end of each summer/winter season (there are only two seasons in England - warmish and coldish). I seek some honesty with myself: did I actually wear it all season?

When my cousin came over for the wedding I asked her to go through all the clothes that no longer fit me. Twelve years my junior, in her early 20s, there was a lot of stuff that looked great on her. And it was much easier parting with things when I knew they were going to my lovely cousin.

But still, there are loads of dresses I hang on to that I don't wear and all sorts of strange things I can't seem to throw away, like oversized tee-shirts with the names of trade publications I once worked for stenciled on them. These are not high-fashion items I should be treasuring.

I think the crux of my problem lies in my refusal to see my own wardrobe as a changeable, living thing. I'm not even the type who buys 'investment' pieces! But the reality is that we buy new things all the time, our lives change, our jobs change, our shapes change, and our tastes change. Even if I like something a lot, I can grow tired of wearing it. And there's that old chestnut of hanging onto clothes that don't fit. If you lose or gain weight, guess what, you can buy new clothes – the ones you are holding onto may no longer be in style or to your taste anyway.

Keeping things that you actually wear now and make you feel good is the stuff equivalent to living in the moment.

So this past weekend I took my first step in the getting-rid-of-things-I-don't wear cold turkey process. Without questioning, I asked myself, 'do I wear this?' and if the answer was no, then I took it out of the drawer or closet. Everything is now sitting up in our attic for phase two.

I plan to ask myself three questions when the real sorting begins:

1. Do I wear this? Right now?

2. Do I feel good in this?
3. If neither are true, why am I hanging onto this… and it is rational or just emotional?

I'm planning to give myself a little leeway. I have two small storage boxes. I will allow myself to keep some sentimental items, but only as long as they fit into those two boxes. Everything else will go to the charity shop or be thrown away. I'll let you know how it goes.

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Change: Acceptance Is The Hardest Part

My Mom says that my personality was fully formed before I was even born. Nearly two weeks past my due date, in the scorching summer of 1976 (I am a bicentennial baby), I had no interest in leaving the safe harbor of the womb. My Dad even took my Mom bike riding through Central Park to try to induce labor. In the end, it was a dinner of tuna casserole that finally caused her to go into labor – perhaps my distaste of fish and seafood started at a very young age.

I've never been too interested in change. I'm the kind of person who is usually content where they are, craves routine and generally fears too much upheaval and chaos. I sometimes take it to an absurd level. I never actually feel like getting into the shower, but then once I'm in, I don't want to get out.

When I found out this month's word for the Self-Discovery Word by Word series was 'change', I was slightly terrified. How do I write about something that I struggle with every day? (Ah wait, I write about things I struggle with every day all the time!)

The problem with not being comfortable with change is that change is the constant. And change is what provides growth. I may not like it, but I know its importance. Which is why I do crazy things like move to other countries without really knowing anyone. And why although marriage is a terribly risky thing to do, I am willing to take the plunge and try to figure what love really is.

You can face life head on and take things as they come, experiencing them fully, or you can hide away under the blankets grasping onto the fantasy that you can control things and as long as you are able to do that you'll be safe. But that's exhausting.

There are also those who love change – crave it in fact. But I think that can be a problem as well. When we are not prepared to accept life as it is, when we are constantly looking for something better, brighter and different – that elusive thing that will make us happier – it's easy to get caught up in the illusion that what we need to do is change our circumstances, rather than our attitude to life itself.

Unhappy in your relationship? Dump him. Unhappy at work? Switch jobs. Feeling like things aren't complete? Move. I'm not saying that there aren't times to do these things, but it's worth examining our own attitudes to life and whether or not our perception is actually the crux of the problem. Learning that I create the life I have from my own set of thoughts and beliefs was the biggest revelation I've ever had. It's up to me and no one else to make me happy. Not my partner, my job, my friends or even my breakfast (even if it contains bacon!).

I think maybe those who fear change and those who crave it aren't actually that different from each other. Both don't want to accept life as it is – and rightly so, as it's a hard thing to do. But when we accept, we break down the barriers we've created, which ironically, makes life that tiny bit better.

This post is part of the Self-Discovery Word by Word blogger series. Mara, over at Medicinal Marzipan, came up with this month's word. Learn more about participating in Mara’s post and you can also read her excellent post on change here.

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2

Making Morning Space

As you may or may not have noticed, I took last week off from blogging. Wasn't intentional, but last weekend we were in New York partying it up pre-wedding. And then, back to work, dealing with jet lag and a pile of work to tackle after being on vacation for (gasp!) two weeks straight. Blogging just wasn't in the cards.

Plus we're gearing up for the stretch of time right before the wedding when things really need to get sorted out, so I'm kind of busy panicking.

However, I have made some progress on the morning front! I thought I'd share, because you all know how much I have struggled with this. It's probably too early to even talk about because I've had a lot of false starts before, but as is always the case, I am hoping that this time is different.

Here's my new approach. In the past, I was trying to get up earlier to get something done. Most recently writing. However, I think this may have been where I was going wrong. This past week (and mind you, I was jetlagged) I started getting up earlier but avoided doing anything more than I typically do before work – you know the drill: shower, dressing, eating, getting to work. This week I just gave myself more space and time. Time to actually put on makeup, time to make a nice breakfast, and an actual feasible time for commuting.

The results were astounding. Not faced with a new task to get done but just more time to enjoy getting ready in the morning and subsequently not feeling rushed and panicky has done wonders for my mood in the morning. I'm getting into work before 9 a.m. – instead of wondering how late I'm actually going to be that day.

And because I don't feel rushed or stressed I am not so devastated when I don't get a seat on the train or the tube. I'm even feeling like I'm more productive at work because I don't start the day feeling behind.

One of my issues – I believe – is that my stress over needing to be more productive is actually detrimental. Because I'm always trying to 'do' so much, I don't have time to just 'be' and that, counterintuitive as it may be, actually impedes creativity and productivity.

Perhaps – and one can always hope – that this time I have it cracked. I spend so much time trying to be something else, someone better, someone more interesting and more productive. Maybe for me the morning isn't a time to get more done, but a time for me to just let things go and make more space for being.

Again, as usual, I'm worried this is the millionth false start. But I'll keep you posted.

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2

Tap Dancing And Mind Shifting

Last night, I went back to my tap dancing class. You've never seen someone so happy to be tap dancing.

If you've been following the saga of my back injury, last we spoke I was on the road to recovery but needed to do some serious hip stretching while we were on our holiday in San Francisco. (If you want the background story, click on the label 'back pain' and you'll find the entries concerning it.)

I visited my physio last week extremely jet lagged, generally cranky and stiff from the 9-hour flight, but still, triumphantly, she said things looked good (gold star for me!). My hips are nearly stretched out and my tummy is stronger (from all the crunches) and now we just need to do a few more bum-toning exercises (who would reject that?).

But at the same time, I'm allowed – in fact, instructed – to get back into doing regular exercise to keep building up the right muscles. Of course, everything needs to be done in a controlled manner, and I need to do the physio exercises and stretches to make sure everything that is supposed to stays loose (like my lower back and hips) and everything that's supposed to stay strong, does (like my tummy and bum). But still, it's good.

Because I'm used to being disciplined in doing the exercises, I've been able to recover from my back injury quite quickly. Also, and this is important: I didn't need the same level of patience that recovering from a long, chronic injury requires. So if you've had back problems for a very long period of time, you have to remember this – if the problem has been stewing for a while, it's going to take a while to fix. But it's still worth doing as soon as possible, because procrastinating and leaving it for longer isn't going to help.

It's funny, because this back injury was located so quickly, and was acute instead of chronic, I'm able to see the recovery process in a totally different way than my very long saga with my neck/shoulders.

I used to view my physio exercises as something isolated from the rest of my life. And in a way, that was necessary for quite some time with my neck and shoulders. Everything was in pain and I had to stop all my other activity and focus on slowly coaxing my muscles out of their imbalanced state.

But I thought there was going to be a day where I just stopped doing the physio exercises and resumed regular life. Like there was going to be a switch that got flipped.

There will be a day where I don't need to do them every day; in fact, I was at that point with my neck and shoulders right before I hurt my back. But, I'm starting to view the physio work more as a tool than just an isolated process. For example, last night before I went to my tap class I could feel that my back was pretty stiff from sitting at my desk all day. So I went to the gym on the way to my class and stretched out my back using my stomach work, so I could go do some dancing. I think in the past I would have thought I had to do one or the other – and would have also in a way resented doing the floor work – but I'm finally understanding that the physio work needs to be viewed as a means to an end.

Don't get me wrong here, once you've done the main work, and your muscles are in the right balance, and you have the proper posture to remain pain free, there's not much that can swing things back the other way (a strong muscle stays strong, because it keeps working).

But the exercises are now more of a top up – a way of keeping everything running smoothly, like oil in your car engine. There will definitely be times where I don't really need to do them. And there will be other times when I'm stressed or have been working long hours or have added in some really new exercise that has stiffened things up and I will find them helpful.

I think in the past I've been so angry about what happened to me that I wanted the physio work to be something that eventually I could just cast off. But now I realize it's actually an incredible gift that I've got this tool. I've learned so much about the way my body is supposed to work that I can hopefully keep active well into my old age (if I make it there, let's not assume anything). I won't need a hip replacement or a knee replacement and I'll be able to walk and sit up tall.

I think I'm actually starting to feel lucky, instead of incredibly unlucky. Years ago when I thought I might never be able to type again, if you had told me I'd feel this way eventually, I just wouldn't have believed you.

2

Landmarks

We know that everything in life changes. Even big landmarks built of stone can crumble. But some things do last longer than others, and when you travel through the world's great cities or go to far flung foreign places, there are things that grab you with their age, their beauty or their grandeur.

Spending time in San Francisco has brought me back in time. Tuesday night as we sped through the city late at night in a taxi I saw the Fairmont hotel sitting atop Nob Hill and it reminded me of my first trips to San Francisco early in my career, when I was just a newbie making my way in the post-college real world.

My first trip to SF was in 1999 where I covered a conference held at that very Fairmont Hotel. And, during the height of the Internet boom (about a year later) I landed a job as at the ripe old age of 23 as the editor of a technology financing newsletter. I had two journalists working for me in SF and did quite a few business trips out here. That was back when I loved business travel and thought it was really exciting, especially learning how to eat alone in restaurants (how fun!). Plus there was a group of my friends from college who ended up in SF and I got to see them on my trips.

It has been 10 years since I've spent a lot of time in SF. Much has changed in what is a relatively short time. There are certainly things I miss from my younger more carefree early 20s life, but actually I would never want to go back – that time in life is really difficult. You are trying to figure out who you are and what makes you tick. Work and career are never easy, but at that stage in life, navigating the working world is tough – it's not like the plot of working girl (unfortunately).

Plus, I was still uncomfortable with who I was, looking for others to define me. It surprises me to think about how much I've changed in only 10 years – but also how much more I want to learn and experience in what's left of this relatively short life.

When you live your everyday life day to day it's often difficult to see the forest for the trees. Small happenings are magnified, what you're having for lunch seems to take on more significance than examining the path of your life.

I don't think viewing your life from a thousand feet is always necessary. In fact, it is often terrifying. But it's important to realize just how short and how precious life is. And seeing a landmark that you once viewed with younger more inexperienced eyes is a moment to ponder also how changeable life really is. Both the good and the bad – things that you thought might never ever happen for you and things that you thought you would never be able to weather.

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